


An Oath is Taken

by trepkos



Category: Arthur of the Britons
Genre: Backstory, Blood Brothers, Friendship, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trepkos/pseuds/trepkos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kai is in difficulties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Oath is Taken

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place some years before the time of the series.

“I am Kai, the Saxon who rides with Arthur.”

Sometimes he says it with pride, sometimes defiance; on one occasion only, with a taint of shame. 

But Kai recalls a time when he thought to deny it.

~~

The ugly mob – too big to handle on his own – caught him with no weapon near at hand. First came the jeering, and name-calling; then, rotten vegetables, mud – and worse – started flying through the air. A horseshoe hit him on the forehead.

Those few who dared come close enough, he fought. From one of them, he took the knife he grips in his left hand. In his right, he brandishes a tree branch.

But they have him backed up to the river. Soon they will force him down the bank, into the icy torrent.

Surrounded on three sides by sneering faces, he sways, trying to keep his eye on all of them at once. He can’t swim, so he readies himself for a last desperate struggle; watching for the first to start closing in.

Then Arthur appears from nowhere, laying about him with the flat of his sword, fighting his way through the rabble. Kai charges forward, swinging the branch at his tormentors’ heads.

The cowards scatter, throwing cat-calls and stones; leaving improvised weapons in their wake.

When all have fled, Kai turns to Arthur, and shoves him down the bank. “What do you think you’re doing? I can fight my own battles!”

The blood trickling down his forehead, and the bruises on his face give him the lie.

“Against five or six, perhaps. But can you fight _all_ the young men of this county?”

“Let them come.” Kai wipes mud from his chin with the back of his hand. “I’ll take them on. Don’t need your help.”

Arthur – bemusement turning to frustration – shakes his head. “How many times have you come to _my_ aid, when my sharp tongue has got me into trouble it couldn’t get me out of? There’s no shame in needing assistance.”

“Not ashamed.” Kai sniffs blood back up his nose. “But this is between me and them. Why must you keep interfering?” 

“Why do you think?”

Kai turns away. “How should I know? Perhaps you just like fighting.”

Arthur scrambles up the bank. “On the contrary – I prefer not to fight. But by the time I got here, the time for negotiation had long past.”

“Pah! They hate me. And they’re right to do so. I’m a Saxon. Can I negotiate away the wheat that grows upon my head?” Kai flicks his hair, then stalks away, along the bank.

Arthur lopes after him. “You grew up alongside them, as a Celt, and you’ve done none of them any harm. Their hatred makes no sense.” Now, Arthur overtakes him; blocks his path. “I won’t rest until I have taught them the error of their ways.”

“As well try and teach fish to fly.” Kai shakes his head. “It’s Llud, isn’t it? He’s told you to watch out for me.”

“Llud told me no such thing.”

They reach a place where the stream widens, and the bank slopes away more gently. Arthur stoops, picks up a pebble, and spins it, making it skip across the water, once, twice. 

Kai picks up a flat stone of his own, and tosses it in his hand, testing its shape and weight. “He doesn’t have to.” He spins the stone. It bounces three times before sinking. He sits down on the bank. “You’re always trying to do the right thing.”

Arthur sits beside him. “What a terrible flaw in my character!”

Kai snorts, picks another stone, and flings it as far as he can.

As the ripples spread, Arthur throws a pebble into the middle of the widening rings. “I stand with you, right or wrong, Kai. You’re my brother.” He puts a hand on Kai’s arm. “And my friend.”

Kai shrugs him off. “How can I be either? No one wants me here. I don’t belong. In the end they’ll take me down, or drive me out. And if you persist in taking my side, your fate will be the same as mine.”

“If they _can_ take me down, then so be it.”

“No!” Kai slaps Arthur’s chest with the back of his hand. “Even a fool can see that you are destined to lead these people. I would not stand in the way of that, for anything.”

“Maybe I _was_ born to command them, but I won’t lead a pack of mad dogs. They must learn to accept you. I’d sooner have _you_ fighting by my side than any Celt in this village. In this land.” Arthur stands, and offers Kai his hand. 

Kai frowns. “You mean that?”

“You know I do.”

Kai studies Arthur’s face for a brief moment, and when Arthur offers his hand again, Kai takes it, letting Arthur pull him to his feet.

Arthur grips him by the forearm. “Sword and axe, Celt and Saxon – we are stronger together.”

Kai gives a curt nod. “Then you will have my axe. I will stand by your side or at your back, wherever and whenever you command. I swear it.”

He draws his knife, makes a shallow cut in his left palm, and offers hand and knife to Arthur.

Arthur tilts his head. “And you will have my sword.” He takes the knife, makes a matching cut in his own hand, and presses his palm to Kai’s.

They stand thus, palm to palm. After a moment – Kai snorts, and cuffs Arthur’s cheek, bloodying it.

Arthur laughs, and throws an arm around Kai’s shoulders. “Now I, too, have Saxon blood – on my face and in my veins. If they come for you, they will have to come for me, as well.”

~~

**Author's Note:**

> First archived here: 19 June 2010.  
> Revised: 15 April 2015.


End file.
